A lip-syncing drag queen. Girls kissing other girls. And guys actually dancing.

This was not your typical prom. What really made it unusual was that the 30 or so teens gathered at a West Side community center on Saturday said they didn’t have to fear being themselves. Gay, lesbian, straight and bisexual teenagers - and a couple who just weren’t sure - danced, embraced and relaxed at Cleveland’s Lesbian, Gay Community Service Center - free from the sideways stares, taunts and threats most said they’d expect at their school proms.

“I always wanted to go to prom, but why should I go and pretend I’m somebody I’m not?” said Anthony Rockhold, 19, a high school graduate. from Cleveland. “I stayed home watching TV and thinking, ‘What [my classmates] are doing, I should be doing - but with who I’m with.’

“I never went to prom because I could never be myself,” he said. “This is my opportunity.”

Saturday’s dance, open to gay and straight youth ages 1.5 to 20, was the first such event held in Cleveland, adding it to a list of cities around the country - from Los Angeles to Dallas, from Des Moines, Iowa, to New York - that have had gay proms. The dances are typically held by community organizations, which makes specific statistics on the number of gay proms nearly impossible to calculate.

Anecdotal evidence suggests they have been on the rise in the last few years, said Jim Anderson, spokesman for GLSEN, the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network, a national nonprofit gay rights organization that focuses on school issues.

They're popping up right and left,” Anderson said. “They really play an important role. But we shouldn’t rely on community centers to create a safe space for gay teens. The schools need to create a safe place. If they aren’t, they’re falling short.”

Some states are trying to address that shortfall. California, Connecticut, Massachusetts and Wisconsin have laws protecting students from discrimination based on sexual orientation. A few other states have administra-tive codes barring such discrimination.

Shaker policy

Shaker Heights is the only local district that includes the words “sexual orientation” in its policy to prevent harassment, according ta local gay-rights organizations. The policy, which was created two years ago, is posted in the high school’s classrooms and stu-dent handbooks.

“What we’re trying to do is establish a respectful environment,” said Peggy Caldwell, director of communications for that school district. “Life is tough for adolescents anyway, and adolescents who are struggling with issues of sexual orientation are having an especially hard time.

When you send a message that [harassment] is not tolerated, it probably inhibits it to some degree. I certainly hope so.”

Other school districts don’t believe such specific wording is necessary. In a meeting last week, North Olmsted’s school board voted 3-2 not to include sexual orientation in its policy to prevent harassment, something the gay/straight alliance at North Olmsted High School has been pushing since last year.

“The anti-discrimination policy includes the words ‘sexual harassment, ’ which the board feels covers sexual orientation,” said Vera Brewer, communications manager for the North Olmsted school district. But starting next year, the district will include the words “sexual orientation” in a section of its student handbook that will explain specific types of sexual harassment, Brewer said.

That’s a step in the right direction, said Jennifer Kruger, who handles youth programs for the community center, “but it’s not the end-all.”

“To have the writing is all well and good, and it looks nice,” Kruger said. “But if you’re not willing to follow through, it doesn’t do a lot of good.”

Many teens at the dance said they are surrounded in school by a litany of slurs, some directed at them, some used as part of “normal” high school vernacular. Sometimes such language is used by school staff, several teens said.

“They’re totally anti-gay at my school,” said Maria, a 16-year-old from Lorain who is questioning whether she is homosexual and doesn’t want to use her last name. “You hear 50 times a day, ‘You’re so gay,’ ‘You’re a fag.’ It makes me mad. I wouldn’t want to be out ,at school. I wouldn’t want to risk it.” She said the risk could in-clude being beaten up by classmates.

An accepting environment

This prom was a place to leave all those worries behind. In the basement-level community cen-ter, Maria danced gleefully with a group of teens, both boys and girls.

The big hit of the evening was a cameo appearance by Destiny Sanchez, a 17-year-old drag queen from Cleveland. In a silver, floor-length gown and matching size 10 pumps, Destiny worked the dance floor prancing and swaying with ease while lip-syncing to Christina Aguilera’s pop hit “Genie in a Bottle.” All the teens gathered to watch the show, clapping and even putting a couple of dollars in his garter belt.

The prom was a great way to “just have fun with people who are going to accept you no matter what,” said Destiny, who didn’t want to use his real name because his family doesn’t know he’s gay.

When the music took a slow turn, Brian, a 16-year-old from Medina, asked Richard, also 16, of Bedford, to dance. The two, who met at the prom after coming with other friends, did not want to use their last names. When they came off the dance floor. Richard confided, “I’ve never danced with a guy before.”

Only a few teens at the event said they would feel comfortable dancing with a same-sex partner at a high school prom. And that is not fair, said Kruger.

“Prom is a sort of a cultural right of passage, and it does feel yucky to not be a part of that,” Kruger said. “It tends to be just another thing that makes them feel ‘other.’ ”

Just a week before the gay prom, Josh Sebrasky went to his high school prom expecting the classy event to bring out his peers’ best behavior. The 17 year-old from Willowick went with friends, not a male date. Still, while they waited in line to get into the dance, a boy in another group turned around and coughed while “Homo.” whispering,

“At first I was like, ‘Same old, same old.’ Then it got me a little upset,” Josh said. “Then I just let it go because that’s all I could do.”

It also upsets his parents, Cindy and John Sebrasky, who were among a dozen adult chaperons at the community center dance.

“He hears, ‘There’s the fag,’ ‘There’s the queer,’ every day at school,” Cindy Sebrasky said.

When Josh came out to his parents less than two years ago, he wasn’t sure how they’d react. “I said, ‘You’re my son, I love you no matter what,’ ” John Sebrasky recalled. He said he knows not all parents are as supportive. “Without a place like this, I wonder how many of these kids would have ended up,” he said.

“I think [this prom] is the best thing they could do for these kids,” Cindy Sebrasky said.

Nina and Amy, who didn’t want their last names used, said that while they had a fun time as a couple at Magnificat High School’s prom, Saturday’s event was far more comfortable.

“You’re free here. You don’t have to watch behind you. It feels safer, safe from ignorant people,” said Nina, 18, of Cleveland.

“It’s nice to be around people who are the same,” added 18- year-old Amy, who is from Berea. “It’s not like we’re !he different ones now.”